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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27795223">Near to us, once more</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsTrick/pseuds/MsTrick'>MsTrick</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Christmas, Emotional Baggage, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Fall of Overwatch, reconnecting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:07:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27795223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsTrick/pseuds/MsTrick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Gabriel knew intimately how Jack climbed out of sleep – the blond eyelashes twitching against his cheek, his inhales lengthening, the slow arch of his back – and instantly noticed the change. The relief nearly crushed Gabriel’s ribs together.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Time is it?” Jack mumbled.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"5pm on Christmas Day.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Jack blinked, his mind clearing. “I was out for three days? From what?"</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mentioned Genji/McCree, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Near to us, once more</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioCybertron/gifts">RadioCybertron</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Holidays everyone!!! Wishing all of you and your families good health &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>If Gabriel gave it any thought, he’d probably hate hospitals. As it was, he was too tired to feel anything besides the awful strung-out tension of waiting. Waiting for anything and everything.</p><p>Jack should have woken up by now. </p><p>It was just one bullet. A well-placed one granted, but still just one. Their bodies spat out bullets like splinters. Gabriel wasn’t a sniper, but he had the weaponized instincts of an SEP soldier and the American military had helpfully designed smart rifles that calculated windspeed and trajectory for you. The bullet landed where it was meant to. It had to have. If Jack didn’t wake up from this... </p><p>Gabriel lurched to his feet with an agitated breath and paced in front of the broad window. He did not like windows on principal. Windows traded security for a bit of daylight – God, he was acting like Ana – but the bed Jack lay in was set well away from it, they were on the top floor, and the sunshine gleaming brilliantly on the snow would make the glare of the glass impossible to aim through.</p><p>The hospital suite was more like a hotel room, with a gathering of sofas around a coffee table and even a gussied-up Christmas tree. As though Jack was going to entertain guests for a holiday cocktail party while flat on his back unconscious. </p><p>Gabriel harangued Angela when she came by, desperate to share the blame with someone. </p><p>“He is healing fine from the wound, just at a slower rate than usual, but he’s hardly just recovering from a bullet.” Her voice remained steady and calm, both a balm and an irritant for Gabriel’s jumped-up state. “He’s <em>exhausted</em>. When was the last time he took a day off? Our bodies will often take for themselves what we don’t give them. He needs rest. He’s probably needed proper, uninterrupted rest for months.” </p><p>Gabriel scowled. Not at her but at the entire concept of their bodies betraying them. It made him feel old. </p><p>Angela was right, of course. Next to the SEP scientists themselves, no one knew Jack’s health needs better than she did. Once upon a time, Gabriel was also a strong competitor for the person most familiar with Jack’s body, albeit through a very different type of investigation. </p><p>She left Gabriel there to struggle against the tide of his memories while watching the rise and fall of Jack’s chest. Gabriel didn’t want to be remembering how Jack, younger and brighter, had grinned into Gabriel’s palm before kissing it. Or the way he tucked himself against Gabriel’s backside, hand drifting low to cradle Gabriel’s cock and balls while he dozed off. Or the words they breathed into each other’s mouths in the dark quiet, one inside the other, leaving fingerprints in each other’s shoulders.</p><p>But it was thanks to those fleeting moments that Gabriel knew intimately how Jack climbed out of sleep – the blond eyelashes twitching against his cheek, his inhales lengthening, the slow arch of his back – and instantly noticed the change.</p><p>The relief nearly crushed Gabriel’s ribs together.</p><p>“Time is it?” Jack mumbled. </p><p>“5pm on Christmas Day.” </p><p>Jack blinked, his mind clearing. “I was out for <em>three</em> days? From what?” </p><p>Angela burst in without knocking. Evidently, she’d been remotely tracking Jack’s machine readings. She fluttered about, explaining and examining with brisk gestures. She only paused when Jack asked: </p><p>“Doc, why are you working?” </p><p>“It’s...easier. And then I get to give my staff time off to spend with their families.” <em>Since I have none of my own</em>, went unsaid. “The hospital has an arrangement with a nearby restaurant to provide Christmas dinners that taste better than the standard canteen fare. I’ll put in an order for you.” </p><p>“I’m feeling fine,” Jack insisted, sitting up in bed. “I should head out.” </p><p>“Head where?” Gabriel scoffed. </p><p>“The mayor’s hosting a party. I said I'd stop by." </p><p>Angela pinched the bridge of her nose in vexation, thumb and index finger beneath her glasses. “For once, as a Christmas gift to me, will you please do as I ask and spend the night here?” </p><p>“Uh. Okay,” Jack obliged sheepishly. </p><p>Angela whirled on Gabriel. “If I order you dinner as well, will you make sure he stays?” </p><p>Gabriel was about to bluster that he had better places to be, but the fact that he didn’t landed like a bank of wet snow on his soul. He shrugged. Angela chirped thanks and swept out of the room. </p><p>The silence that took her place bit into both men. When was the last time they spent Christmas together? Or any meal, for that matter? Six years ago. No, eight. Gabriel frowned. Had it really been eight years since they broke up?</p><p>Jack climbed out of the plush hospital bed to look out the window, the t-shirt and sweatpants reminiscent of their time in the SEP, of softer moments, of a time when they’d actually been able to be vulnerable with each other.</p><p>The radiance of Zürich’s decorations lit up the snow lilting down from the sky. Faintly audible was Judy Garland’s crooning of <em>Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas</em>, a song that had always struck Gabriel as incredibly sad. Muddle through somehow. That seemed to be how he handled most things these days:  sleepwalk through holidays he couldn’t spend with his family, survive this mission in order to make it to the next mission he had to survive, make the world better one bad deed at a time and hope the wrongs all added up to something alright in the end. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, almost before he’d decided to speak. </p><p>Jack turned. His bewildered stare spoke volumes about how long it had been since Gabriel had apologized for...well, anything. Or maybe it spoke volumes about how much Gabriel had to apologize for. </p><p>Gabriel took a deep breath. “I was the one who shot you.” </p><p>Jack’s gaze sharpened in fury and disbelief. “Excuse me?” </p><p>“We spotted Talon’s sniper in the city a few days ago.” Gabriel refused to call her by name. Amélie was as dead as Gérard and the loss of them both, compounded by the loss of Ana, was too deep and dark a grief to touch. “With some subtle investigating, we determined she was going to assassinate you at the Christmas event yesterday.” </p><p>“And you didn’t want her stealing your kill?” Jack sneered. </p><p>Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “We cracked one of the codes Talon uses for distributing orders—" </p><p>“What are you—” </p><p>“<em>Listen</em> to me,” Gabriel snarled. “If we thwarted the assassination attempt, Talon would realize that we’d deciphered their communications and we’d lose that edge. There is too much we don’t know yet to allow that to happen. You <em>had</em> to miss that event for completely unrelated reasons.” </p><p>Jack scoffed. “It figures the only way you think you could convince me not to do something was to literally incapacitate me.” </p><p>Gabriel leveled a cool look at him. “What else would have worked?” </p><p>Jack opened his mouth but he didn’t have an answer, as Gabriel knew he didn’t. There was no other feasible excuse for Jack to miss a publicized Christmas Eve celebration. He had no personal obligations since his parents were dead and he hadn’t spoken to the rest of his family in years. SEP soldiers didn’t get sick. Work had consumed him to the point that he had few friends who weren’t colleagues or professional associates. The rest of the Strike Team were gone. </p><p>It hit Gabriel that he was in the exact same position. While Jack had spent the last few Christmases on the festive PR circuit, Gabriel had either been working or drinking alone. Even ragged castaways Jesse and Genji had found comfort in each other. In Japan, Christmas was apparently a romantic holiday for couples, on par with Valentines’ Day, and Gabriel had no interest in being his agents’ third wheel.</p><p>“...Thank you,” Jack said.</p><p>Gabriel gave Jack a look that was likely identical to the one Jack gave him for apologizing earlier. It had been a long time since Jack had thanked him for anything.</p><p>Gabriel shrugged, uncertain. “Just doing my job. Couldn’t have you ruining everyone’s holiday.” </p><p>“Right,” Jack said softly. A huff of laughter escaped him. “Only you could save my life by nearly killing me.”</p><p>The compliment was a bitter one. It was a peculiar talent of Gabriel’s, the willingness to hurt the people he loved in order to keep them safe. He wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to pull that trigger though.</p><p>Before the silence went on too long, the food arrived with all the flourishes of room service in a 5-star hotel, with enough dishes to cover the entire table as well as the coffee table. Angela knew how many calories they needed, especially when recovering from an injury. The aromas unfurled, rich and savory – smoked hams, cheesy potatoes, fondue, sausage puff pastries, roasted vegetables, little bread men and piles of cookies.</p><p>It all smelled delicious, but Gabriel caught Jack’s eyes searching the spread and knew they were both thinking the same thing.</p><p>“Not quite how you’d do it back home, huh?”</p><p>A small smile ghosted over Jack’s lips. “It’s close enough – it’s all white people food, as you’d say. Though actually, I was thinking how much I want some of your mom’s red pozole. And something real to drink.”</p><p>Gabriel felt a pang. He’d only taken Jack back to his mom’s for Christmas twice but Jack evidently considered those memories warm coals to huddle around for comfort. It was unearthing emotions Gabriel had considered well buried. But that was the thing with a relationship that had spanned as many years and phases as theirs had: there were so many anchors to the past, it was impossible to escape. For better or for worse.</p><p>Usually, Gabriel did his best to outrun it all, but he was so damn tired in so many ways.</p><p>“Me too,” he said.</p><p>They ate their doctor-ordered feast in the needlessly luxurious hospital suite. They ate in spite of the memories and disappointments. They ate with the methodical consumption of soldiers trained to take what calories they could get. Neither wanted to talk. Neither wanted to break this soft, snowbound hiatus they’d fallen into. Their movements synced in small ways that betrayed how long they’d known each other.</p><p>As they worked their way through the assortment of Christmas cookies, Jack picked up a green bottle.</p><p>“The fuck is this?” He grumbled.</p><p>“Alcohol-free wine.”</p><p>Jack grimaced. “So, grape juice.”</p><p>“Screw it,” Gabriel said, standing. “I’m getting us some whiskey. Nice stuff. There’s a liquor store two blocks from here.”</p><p>Gabriel caught a flicker in Jack’s expression. It was the word <em>us</em>, Gabriel realized. They hadn’t been an <em>us</em> for a long time.</p><p>Jack wet his lips and feigned nonchalance. “And you know the location of the hospital's nearest booze source off the top of your head because...?”</p><p>“McCree.”</p><p>“Of course,” Jack snickered.</p><p>Shrugging on his jacket, Gabriel glanced over at Jack’s quiet, “Hey.”</p><p>In his blue eyes was a storm of everything he wanted to say, every intention and sentiment that had once fit into the two-letter <em>us</em>, but all he managed was: “Don’t take too long.”</p><p>Gabriel turned away to hide his smile but got the feeling Jack saw it anyway. “I won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>&lt;3</p>
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